by Cara Bristol
She lifted her head. “You killed the guards?”
“Hala!” He tried again.
“We have to leave.” Amanda motioned.
Hala seemed to be in the grip of a fugue, making no effort to move. He couldn’t begin to guess the horror she’d been through, what she must have witnessed. “Come on,” he said gently and touched her elbow.
She twisted away. “The safe house you were instructed to go to has been compromised. I’ve come to take you to another.”
“Can you get us to the shuttleport?” Amanda asked.
“You would be shot on the spot,” Hala replied. “All flights have been grounded. Security has been heightened.”
“Safe house, it is.” Sonny eyed the bodies. “Maybe we should take their uniforms.” They were cleaner than the ones he and Amanda wore. From their disheveled state, anyone would recognize they weren’t guards.
“No time! This way. Follow me.” Hala rushed out and to the right, heading away from the entrance they’d used.
Vacant of personnel, the corridor seemed disturbingly quiet. Why aren’t there more people here? As important as this place is, it should have been better guarded.
Maybe Kilead and Sorviq never expected anyone to get this far, Amanda suggested. I’m sure no one gets past the guards and drones, so they only need minimal personnel—just the techs who operate the communication equipment. The hike across the desert would deter most people.
But not Hala. What a determined woman she was. He assessed her injuries. Thankfully, they didn’t appear to be serious, despite the large amount of blood staining her face and robe. More concerning was her mental state. Post-traumatic stress.
“They have the others,” she said in monotone.
“The rest of the Resistance?” Fuck.
Hala nodded. “The warehouse was raided, but I escaped through the underground passage and knew I had to warn you.” Under the circumstances, she’d gone above and beyond the call of duty. The Resistance had lived up to their part of the bargain.
“Everyone? What about Tannah?” Amanda asked.
“I don’t know. This way, hurry! We don’t have much time,” Hala sped up.
“What about Cornar? Mortin?” she persisted, as if she needed to hear every name before she could accept the loss.
All those people—was anyone left to combat Sorviq? Or had the Resistance died with the six? Cornar’s comments about a groundswell of insurgents seemed to imply there were other members. Had the raid captured everyone or were there others who could regroup? “Was the attack limited to the warehouse?” he asked.
“Cornar is dead,” she said in a flat voice. “That’s all I know.”
Hala’s mate. The father of the children she loved so much. No wonder she was in shock. He could not imagine how he would function if he lost Amanda. He’d gotten a sample of the grief when the mechanical iwani had gotten her.
“I’m so sorry.” He wished for something better to say.
Amanda caught up with her and touched Hala’s arm. “We are so very sorry,” she repeated.
Hala halted, but did not turn. “Cornar knew the risks when he joined the Resistance. His choice. May the Great One have mercy on his soul.” She began walking again. “I must finish what was started. Please, hurry, we do not have much time.”
At the rear of the building, they approached another exit. Hala moved to swipe the monitor.
“Wait.” He motioned her to the side and nodded at Amanda. They flanked the exit, weapons ready. “Open it.”
Hala palmed the screen.
He and Amanda peered outside. Clear. But Sorviq’s soldiers could be nearby. Hala dashed out without even looking. It was a wonder she’d gotten this far. Under stress, caution flew out the window. Be prepared to shoot, he said, and motioned. They sprinted after her.
Around the corner, a PeeVee idled. “Come on!” Hala cried. The hatch rose, and she climbed into the Nav cab.
They climbed into the passenger section, and the door closed.
Now we know how she got here so fast, he said.
“Computer. Set coordinates to two five by one nine,” Hala barked in a clear voice.
“Coordinates set. Prepare to launch,” the PeeVee responded.
It lifted off the ground and zipped away from the transmission station, swerving to avoid a drone. Sonny peered at the retreating building, half expecting to see an army converging upon it. “How many of the Resistance are gone?”
“Enough,” Hala answered. “I don’t think they-we’ll be able to regroup.”
“What happened?” Amanda asked.
Hala stared out the window. “We-were betrayed by a mole. Someone who’d been embedded years ago.”
“Who?” He wracked his database, recalling the words and actions of those they’d met for signs of deception.
As a matter of survival, they hadn’t fully trusted anyone, but no one stood out as a suspect. They hadn’t gotten to speak with Lomar and Borqit as much as the others and knew them the least. Cornar was dead. It couldn’t be him—unless he’d committed a suicide bombing. Possible? Sure. But Cornar ranked last on his suspect list.
“It doesn’t matter now. It is done,” Hala replied.
It mattered because if the person wasn’t one of the dead ones, he was still out there and knew or had guessed too much. We have no idea how large or extensive the movement is. It could be someone we haven’t met, but my gut says it’s one of the people we know.
Mine, too, Amanda replied. We’re wanted for Kilead’s death. Sorviq didn’t know we came for the information on Lamani or I’d downloaded the PerComm files. He would have no reason to think we would head here unless someone told him. Only the people in the warehouse knew this was our destination.
So who’s your best guess?
Garvit talked a convincing party line when he picked us up at the shuttleport. His belief seemed solid at the time. Maybe it was no act. Maybe he really believed it.
What about Mortin? he suggested. When I tried to leave my quarters after being confined, he didn’t hesitate to blast me.
That’s a possibility.
It could be almost anyone. Even Tannah.
She’s Janai’s sister!
Sonny shrugged. They may not share the same convictions. Avenging her sister’s supposed death would be the perfect alibi to get her accepted by the Resistance. Maybe she realized all along her sister was a traitor and enlisted to ensnare the others.
I can’t believe Tannah would betray her people. I can’t.
I’m not saying it is her; I’m saying we can’t discount the possibility. No one is above suspicion.
A drone buzzed by the PeeVee so close, the twin ventral photon blasters were visible. If Amanda hadn’t shot down the one, they would have been toasted. Were they all fighter drones? They had been shit-ass lucky to have eluded them for as long as they had. Shit-ass lucky Hala had found them when she did.
“Did you get a chance to send your transmission?” she asked in a deadpan voice.
“Yes,” Amanda replied. She’s still in shock.
She witnessed the deaths of her people. Of Cornar, her mate.
“There is a grain of hope, then.” Hala pressed her face to the window. “It is a three-day trek on foot from the compound to Mt. Torva. You were not expected to get to the transmission station until tomorrow.”
Cyborgs had great endurance and could forego sleep for long periods. Hiking all night had given them a good head start—which they’d desperately needed as the new development had proven. Slowed by the iwani attack, the loss of the sand shoes, and the timeouts to hide from the drones, the trek had taken longer than planned. “The supplies you provided helped a lot,” he said. Without them, they would have been hampered more.
Below them, dunes swept out to the horizon like a great pink ocean. Their rescuer continued to gaze out the window, her reflection as blank as the landscape. Despite the tragedy of losing her mate and the fugue that seemed to come and go, she’d m
anaged to forge onward and rescue them. Cornar would have been proud of her. She was alone now. Just her and her children—
Oh hell—“Hala, your children…are they all right?”
“They will be fine now,” she said.
“Destination reached in one minute,” the PeeVee announced, and in the distance, a high-walled drab compound camouflaged by sand appeared, almost as if it had risen out of the ground in that moment. They could have marched right by it and never noticed it. Fortunately, coordinates had been programmed into the PeeVee.
The PeeVee.
“Only PeeVees of high officials are allowed in the restricted zone. Others would be shot down.” So had said Mortin. The reason they had hiked across the desert was because they couldn’t fly to the relay station. But Hala had.
She also had accessed the relay station doors with a palm swipe. They had had to use the guard’s handprint.
Oh. Shit.
What’s wrong? Amanda said.
It’s her! Hala is the mole! “Computer! Reverse course!” he ordered.
“The computer won’t respond to your voice command,” Hala said.
He leveled his blaster. “Instruct the PeeVee to stop.”
“It won’t respond to me either. The coordinates are locked in.”
Without a break in the blankness of her expression, she pulled away the neckline of her robe. Attached to a band around her throat—a microexplosive device. “If the PeeVee alters its course, the MED is programmed to explode.”
* * * *
Amanda reeled. “Why? Why, Hala? How could you put your children at risk by betraying the Resistance? By blowing yourself up? Cornar is dead. Would you make your children orphans?”
“I’m doing this to save my children! One’s mortal life is but a small sacrifice to save one’s soul and pass into the Blessed Beyond.” Blankness vanished, and her eyes burned with the fervent gleam of a true zealot. “I cannot allow infidels to spread their godlessness to our planet and throughout the galaxy. Glory to the Great One and Lamani, his Prophet and Incarnate!”
“If he’s a prophet and incarnate of the Great One, how would the infidels have a chance of defeating him?” she argued. Perhaps she could convince her to let her god deal with them. “If the Great One is so omniscient and all-powerful, wouldn’t he smite the infidels before they could so much as touch Lamani? Would an all-powerful god require assistance?”
“That is the way a blasphemer and an infidel would talk!” Hala spat. “It is not for us to question!”
Sonny caught Amanda’s elbow. It might be best not to push her. There’s a fine line between faith and insanity. Hala has crossed it.
What’s she going to do, kill us? It’s either now or later. Dying was an ever-present danger in Cy-Ops. Not a single assignment wasn’t perilous. And this one? Potentially suicidal from the get-go. Staring death in the face, Amanda accepted her fate. It still pissed her off. If she had to die, she intended to have her say first. Like, bitch, you’re nuts. You’ve been brainwashed since birth. What you believe isn’t real.
Let’s not race toward it, okay?
The PeeVee began to descend, and, on the ground, four armed guards awaited. Not good. You see a way out of this? she asked.
Not at the moment, he conceded.
“If you’re on Sorviq’s side, what happened to your face?” she asked Hala.
“After the forces raided the compound, I went to fulfill my purpose of delivering the infidels to Lamani-al-bon and encountered Tannah in the tunnel. She tried to stop me. We fought.”
“What happened to her?”
Hala shrugged. “She is dead or in custody. I left her on the floor of the tunnel.”
The PeeVee landed, sending up a swirl of sand. “Destination reached,” the computer said. With a hiss, the hatch lifted.
“Toss your weapons out, or they will kill you.” The hint of a challenge in Hala’s voice indicated she hoped they would disobey. Didn’t she realize if they were blasted, she’d be killed, too? Probably didn’t matter, since she had an MED around her neck. She believed when she died she’d pass to the Blessed Beyond. She was a true believer. How had they missed her fanaticism? How had she been able to dissemble and deceive the Resistance for so long? Her own mate? Cornar had had no idea—and it had cost him his life.
We can kill a couple of them, Sonny said. You want to go out in a blaze of glory?
She sized up their opponents. Four armed-to-the-teeth soldiers whose expressions indicated they’d like nothing more than to score points with the Great One by eliminating infidels. And Hala, rigged with pyrotechnics. In the distance, the sand shimmered in the sun.
And give her the satisfaction? Hell, no! Not yet, anyway. It’s only six against two. Those aren’t bad odds, considering.
Amanda? Sonny tossed his weapons out of the PeeVee. I’m sorry I let you down. I love you.
Don’t be so melodramatic. Her weapons hit the ground next to his. It’s not over yet. But…I love you, too.
Keeping their hands held high and visible, they exited.
Chapter Twenty
Hands on her head, Amanda knelt in the sand, Sonny next to her.
Upon exiting the PeeVee, they’d been herded into the vacant windowless shelter while Hala remained outside. Whatever the building had once been used for, it had been abandoned a long time ago, judging from the chunks missing from the walls and the thick sand coating everything, including broken furniture. A good place to dispose of bodies without witnesses.
They’d waited in silence until Hala poked her head inside. “Lamani-al-bon has arrived.” Sorviq’s promotion from al-duban to al-bon was official, it appeared. The second had become the first by virtue of attrition.
The guards had prodded them outside. Feet planted wide, Sorviq stood in front of a second PeeVee. “Kneel,” he’d ordered.
Surrounded, they’d had no choice.
Amanda didn’t know what she disliked more—the photon blasters pointed at their faces or the ones she sensed were aimed at their backs.
Execution appeared imminent. Her father would have said she’d failed again, but a grim determination rejected the falsehood. Unlike the Lamis-Odg people, she questioned what she’d been taught. Her father might believe her a washout, but that didn’t make it so. Despite some mistakes—killing Kilead—she hadn’t failed. Against all odds, they’d located Lamani. The files she’d stolen contained a wealth of invaluable information. Her father would never realize the extent of her accomplishment—or that his opinion had ceased to define her self-worth.
She’d achieved more than her father ever had. She was Amanda Mansfield. A cyberoperative. A woman who kicked ass.
Not a quitter. As long as they weren’t dead, they still had a chance. He must consider us a threat. It’s a 2:1 ratio of guard to prisoner, she quipped to Sonny.
Don’t forget Hala.
Did you notice? She didn’t even get an atta girl for capturing the prisoners. Sorviq and her father had something in common.
It’s a thankless job being a terrorist’s mole.
Her reward is getting to watch us die.
The woman stood with her back to the dunes, seemingly unconcerned about the MED locked around her neck. The building provided shade, but she stood under the blaze of the sun with the rest of them.
Guess they don’t want her too close to anything in case she goes kaboom, she said. MEDs had limited range, but Hala could destroy a sidewall.
The setting sun painted the dunes a bloody pink. A sand devil swept across the landscape, flattening hills and building new ones. The rearranged landscape shimmered and rolled.
Toward them. It didn’t stop when the twirling wind spun away.
Do you see what I see? The wave? She eyed the ripples, and her microprocessor determined the distance. Two o’clock. Point four kilometers.
He narrowed his gaze. Oh, for fuck’s sake. We can’t catch a break.
No, this is the break. She could hardly contain her smile as sh
e accessed a program file uploaded from Kilead’s device. Ah, there it was. Her microprocessor went to work.
Sorviq raised his face and arms to the sky. “Glory to the Great One and Lamani his Prophet and Incarnate.”
“Glory to the Great One…” the guards and Hala repeated.
The good thing about dying is I won’t have to listen to that anymore,” he said.
Sorviq looked at them. “The Great One has fulfilled my prayers and eliminated the false son, the poser who would have stolen what was mine. When my father passes, I shall become Lamani.”
He’s pleased his brother is dead! Amanda said.
Mortin had mentioned we had done him a favor. If I was his father, I’d watch my back.
No kidding.
“And I have the Great One to thank for sending you to me.” Sorviq strode closer to them. “If you had not rendered Kilead unconscious, I would not have been able to dispose of him. My brother was cautious to a fault—until, overcome by lust, he let his guard down, and I executed him.”
Sorviq had killed him? Amanda blinked. She wasn’t responsible at all! At least not directly. The Loquitol might have rendered Kilead vulnerable to attack, but she hadn’t killed him. She hadn’t screwed up. The last remnants of self-doubt fell away.
The waves in the sand were moving faster now, streaming toward them. Beside her, Sonny jerked. Here it comes.
Steady. It’s part of the plan. She was Amanda Mansfield. She was strong. She could do this.
What plan?
Sorviq pivoted and strolled to the side. He waved at the soldiers. “Guards—”
He was going to order them to fire! No! Not yet. She eyed approaching ripples. Still too far away! Stall him, quick!
Amanda…
Trust me—get me another few seconds.
“If you know we didn’t kill him, then why are we here?” Sonny rushed out.
“Because you know too much. Because you are part of the Resistance.” With a snapping gesture, he motioned to the guards.
“Iwani!” one of them cried. Sand churned and roiled, rushing toward them. “Iwani!” they shouted. “Oh Great One, save us.” All four guards fled.
“Stop! I command you!” he ordered.
